


I Can Fix That

by grandsequel (Yunho)



Series: Making Perfection [1]
Category: Infinite (Band), K-pop
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 03:02:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/657329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yunho/pseuds/grandsequel





	I Can Fix That

They say the camera is never off for a celebrity and Sungjong realized just how true that statement was. When they’d first learned of  _You are my Oppa_ , the members of Infinite had been excited. A documentary on their pre-debut; it could only mean people expected big things from them.   
  
Sungjong had been just as excited as his hyungs, but at the moment, with a camera videotaping him  _bathing_ , he was starting to have some reconsiderations.  
  
He stood beside Myungsoo, running nimble fingers through his wet hair as he tried in vain to style his untamable locks. The camera in his face was not helping his process.  
  
Myungsoo beside him was having no such trouble with the camera. It didn’t feel strange to have someone watching his every step because he’d realized a long time ago people will  _always_  be staring. At least this way they’d only see certain things.  
  
The camera finally turned away to tape the other members. Sungjong didn’t realize he’d released a sigh of relief until he noticed Myungsoo smirking in the mirror.  
  
“What? Something on my face?” he asked, leaning closer to the mirror to inspect himself more closely. Myungsoo didn’t answer, continuing with blow-drying his hair.  
  
Sungjong didn’t take offense at the silent boy, knowing that was just the way he was. Myungsoo barely ever spoke, not even during dinner—when the other boys would laugh and tell jokes.   
  
Sungjong leaned closer to the mirror again, fiddling with his hair in frustration as it quickly became apparent it was one of  _those_  nights, when his hair refused to cooperate.   
  
Myungsoo quietly finished fixing his hair but didn’t leave just yet, opting instead to watch his dongsaeng as the smaller boy grew agitated from trying to fix his hair. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched Sungjong lean impossibly closer to the mirror, his eyes crossing adorably as he stared unblinkingly at himself.  
  
“Stop,” Myungsoo commanded gently as he pulled Sungjong away from the mirror. His palm soaked up the heat emanating from Sungjong’s shoulder as he pulled the towel away from the smaller boy’s shoulders.  
  
Ignoring Sungjong’s questioning look, he picked up his blow-dryer and comb again. “I’ll fix it for you,” he said, switching the hair-dryer on.  
  
Sungjong prayed the older boy wouldn’t notice the bright blush blooming across his features as his hyung ran expert fingers soothingly through his hair. The warm gust of air from the blow-dryer coupled with Myungsoo’s close proximity brought heat to his face. If Myungsoo asked, he’d just say it was the humidity in the small bathroom.  
  
Myungsoo  _did_  notice the red coming to the boy’s face, but chose not to comment, shrugging it off. Just as everyone had accepted his somewhat aloof personality, Myungsoo had long since accepted Sungjong’s cherubic character. The boy was always bringing an unexpected—though not unwanted—smile to his face.  
  


* * *

  
  
“Is Jiae up yet?” Woohyun called from the kitchen, asking his bandmates who were settled in the living room watching the morning news. There was a chorus of noncommittal grunts, indicating no. Before Woohyun could scold them for not waking her up yet, Sungjong quickly stood up, smiling brightly.  
  
“I’ll go wake her, hyung,” he said.  
  
Myungsoo watched from the corner of his eye as he disappeared into the room Jiae was currently still sleeping in.  
  
“Food’s ready,” Woohyun shouted. Immediately, the boys still in the living room, minus Myungsoo, stood and stumbled their way half-awake into the kitchen. Myungsoo chose to wait for Sungjong to return. He wasn’t that hungry anyway.  
  
When Sungjong finally emerged from Jiae’s room, with Jiae herself walking out shortly after with her head down, Myungsoo immediately sensed something wrong.   
  
“I’m sorry, Sungjongie, I didn’t mean to-”  
  
“It’s okay, really. I forgot you hate being shaken awake,” he said with an obviously forced laugh, “You should hurry and get dressed.” Myungsoo watched as Jiae nodded her head before making her way slowly into the bathroom. He stood and walked up to Sungjong, grabbing his wrist and spinning the younger boy to face him. He dropped his hand quickly as he saw Sungjong wince. Looking down, his eyes widened as he realized why.  
  
“She did this to you?” Myungsoo asked, knowing the answer.  
  
Sungjong nodded slowly. “Yeah, but it was just an accident,” he rushed to explain, as he cradled his wrist in his other hand. Though it wasn’t bleeding badly, there were 4 distinct lines running from his forearm to his small wrist, scratches Jiae had apparently made.   
  
Myungsoo loosened Sungjong’s grip on his wrist, taking the injured hand into his own and running his fingers tenderly across the scarred skin. His eyes narrowed as he heard his bandmate hiss.  
  
“Come on, we have to treat this,” he said, leading him back into the room again where the group kept a small safety kit on one of the closet shelves.  
  
“Hyung, really, it’s okay, I’ll just wash it after breakfast,” Sungjong protested weakly, though he made no move to remove the older boy’s grip on his arm. Though he would never admit it, he liked the thought of Myungsoo taking care of him.  
  
Since day one, Myungsoo had always seemed the cold, aloof type and he oftentimes was. Sungjong didn’t think it was the older boy’s intent to alienate those around him. It seemed there was something deeper to him than that, something more than just a spoiled-boy act. While he didn’t use that as an excuse to justify Myungsoo’s cold behavior, Sungjong found himself wanting to understand him better, wanting to get closer to the boy.  _Like he’d really appreciate that_ , Sungjong thought to himself wryly as he watched Myungsoo stand on his toes to reach for the safety kit.  
  
When Myungsoo held the box in his hand and opened it, Sungjong reached in and took out a small antiseptic cloth packet. Before he could open it, Myungsoo grabbed it from his hands, tearing it open and pulling the small cloth out. He held Sungjong’s hand in his own loosely so as not to hurt him further. He dabbed the cloth gingerly across the injured skin, holding fast to Sungjong’s hand as he tried to jerk it out of Myungsoo’s grasp.  
  
“Hold still, I have to fix this up before it gets infected,” he commanded, though not unkindly. Sungjong couldn’t stop a wince as Myungsoo continued to treat his wrist. When Myungsoo deemed it clean of the small bit of blood that had gathered and properly disinfected, he reached into the box and pulled out a small sterile gauze pad. Before he put it on though, he raised Sungjong’s wrist to his face, blowing hot breath gently onto the tender skin.   
  
Sungjong felt his face heat up at the intimate gesture. As Myungsoo continued to blow across his wrist, he couldn’t help but whimper, though he wasn’t sure if it was from pain or embarrassment.  
  
Myungsoo raised his eyes to Sungjong's as heard the younger boy whimper, though he didn’t stop blowing on Sungjong’s wrist. Sungjong had his eyes averted, staring to the side as his face grew bright red. Myungsoo smirked at the flushed boy, though he didn’t see it.  
  
After several moments, Myungsoo pulled away and took the gauze pad, placing it gently over the injured area. He didn’t release Sungjong’s hand right away though. Instead he entwined his fingers with Sungjong’s and walked around him, pulling the unresisting boy with him out of the room.  
  
“Come on. Now that that’s fixed up, you need to eat.”  
  


* * *

  
  
Sungjong swore silently to himself, bending down to kneel and inspect his shoes, which he had yet to put on. His umma had always told him that swearing was wrong, but nothing was more appropriate at the moment than a good ‘ _shit_ ,’ as he realized with a sinking heart that the shoelace for his left shoe was completely knotted. The more he tried to undo the knot, trying to loosen it enough so that he could slip his foot in, the tighter and more entangled it grew.   
  
It was the night of their debut stage. Something like this  _would_  happen to him now.  
  
“20 minutes!” he heard someone call into the dressing room. His heart skipped a beat, his fingers working frantically to loosen the knot. He felt tears threatening to spill as he realized he was running out of time and that his shoes were still not where they belonged: on his feet.  
  
Not knowing what else to do, he wiggled his finger between the knot and began yanking, his arm jerking animatedly back and forth as he attempted to pull the knot apart. It wasn’t working.  
  
 _Omo! What am I going to do?! I need to get my shoes on!_  he cried desperately to himself.   
  
He froze as slightly calloused fingers suddenly pulled his hands away from the knotted shoe. His head jerked up, almost colliding into Myungsoo’s. Their faces were only inches apart, close enough that Sungjong could smell a faint hint of the mint gum Myungsoo had been chewing before in his breath. His face flushed as Myungsoo stared at him, his eyes never leaving his face.  
  
“You know you’re hopeless right?” he asked, and Sungjong wasn’t completely sure he was kidding. At the moment, he  _felt_  pretty useless.   
  
His face scrunched up, on the verge of tears but Myungsoo wasn’t looking at him anymore. He was staring intently down at the shoe.   
  
“I don’t know what happened!” Sungjong cried quietly so that no one else would hear. He didn’t need someone like Woohyun-hyung, or worse Sunggyu-hyung, coming over and getting frantic as well.  
  
“Relax,” Myungsoo replied, his voice oddly calm, “I’ll fix it for you.”  
  
Sungjong stared at Myungsoo as he worked. His eyes were narrowed in concentration, his lips pursed. In that moment, Sungjong understood what everyone’s fascination with the older boy was.  _He really_  is  _beautiful_ , he thought to himself, blushing even harder at his thoughts.   
  
“10 minutes!”   
  
Sungjong’s stomach jumped to his throat at the announcement.  
  
“Omo! What am I—”  
  
“There, fixed,” Myungsoo announced. Sungjong dropped his gaze immediately to the shoe. Though the laces were slightly wrinkled, they at least weren’t knotted anymore.  
  
This time tears sprung to his eyes but in relief.   
  
“Hyung! Thank you so much—”  
  
“Just put the shoes on,” Myungsoo interrupted. Not bothering to reply, Sungjong fell backward to sit. He quickly pulled his shoes on before reaching out and tying his first shoe. As he did so, he felt Myungsoo’s hands on his other foot. A furtive glance to his side showed Myungsoo bent over his other foot, tying his shoe for him. Sungjong was getting a little tired of always blushing around the older boy, but he couldn’t help the flush that was quickly spreading from his neck to his face. Being so close to Myungsoo, as wonderful as it was, was doing terrible things to his heart, as it beat it furiously in his chest at the close proximity between him and Myungsoo.  
  
Myungsoo stood, smiling to himself as he saw that Sungjong was still blushing. “Come on, we have to get backstage,” he said, reaching down and pulling the younger boy up as he grabbed his hand.  
  


* * *

  
  
Jealousy was not something Myungsoo was intimately acquainted with. In fact, he made it a point to never associate himself with the green monster. Indeed, his brushes with jealousy had been few and far in between since it wasn’t like there was much out there that managed to grab his attention enough for him to grow envious when he couldn’t get it. There weren’t many  _material_  things out there at least.  
  
Maybe that was the problem then. Myungsoo didn’t get jealous easily over material things, true, but Sungjong was most definitely not a  _thing_.  
  
They had just finished practice for the night. The new choreo was difficult. He knew they’d get it eventually, they always did, but it was still difficult. He and his fellow bandmates were all sweaty, sore, and tired from rehearsal, ready for a quick wash and then bed. Well, everyone it seemed but Sungjong, who, though was just as sweaty as his hyungs, was still bursting in smiles and talking happily with anyone who was listening. At the moment, it seemed Sunggyu was the lucky leader to listen to his youngest member’s idle chatter.  
  
It was ridiculous and irrational and Myungsoo  _knew_  that, but he couldn’t help the small seed of jealousy burning in his chest as he gazed with his hands folded on his knees and his head hung down at Sungjong who was following Sunggyu around the dance room as he gathered their possessions. He watched the two hastily clean up, picking up and throwing away empty water bottles. All the while Sungjong went on with his idle ramblings.  
  
The other members sat huddled in the corner, speaking lowly amongst themselves. Myungsoo stood hunched over in the middle of the dance floor. They weren’t paying attention to him or Sungjong and Sunggyu.  
  
He didn’t understand why he was feeling so hurt though. Sure it was usually  _him_  Sungjong followed around after rehearsal, talking his mouth off while Myungsoo stayed silent and replied in noncommittal grunts in return, occasionally smiling or laughing at something ridiculous Sungjong was bound to say. But was that really why it hurt to see Sungjong suddenly going to Sunggyu instead of him? He had no claim on the boy. They were the maknaes of the group, sure, but that didn’t mean they were bound by rope together, right?  
  
It wasn’t like he could even hear what the two were discussing, so for all he knew Sungjong could be asking about the choreo or the new song, hell, even what they would have for breakfast in 4 hours (though that was unlikely as only Woohyun-hyung knew that). So there was nothing to feel jealous about, nothing at all.  
  
Thinking that didn’t help  _any_.  
  
He sighed, his hair falling over his face. Who was he to think he could monopolize Sungjong’s time? In a way, he probably deserved the sudden cold shoulder; wasn’t that how he always behaved around the younger boy? Wasn’t he always the silent, brooding one in the group? Maybe this was what it felt like for Sungjong every time Myungsoo remained quiet around him.  
  
Thinking he deserved this treatment didn’t help any either.  
  
“Myungsoo-yah, come on, the car’s waiting,” Howon called out. Myungsoo looked up to see that everyone else was making their way out of the room. He straightened up and followed, not missing the way Sungjong stayed glued to Sunggyu’s side as they went down the steps. The maknae even hurried into the car to sit beside Sunggyu.  
  
Myungsoo brushed past his hyungs to sit in the back. The car ride back to the apartment was silent, everyone too tired or already asleep to say anything. The entire ride back, Myungsoo’s eyes kept traveling between looking out the window and gazing at Sungjong, who had his head leaned on Sunggyu’s shoulder as he rested his eyes. Myungsoo bristled;  _That should be_  my  _shoulder_ , he couldn’t help but think to himself.  
  
When the car finally came to a halt, the 7 boys lumbered out and stumbled up to their apartment. Dongwoo and Howon were the first to step inside, racing to the bathroom to fight for the right to wash up first.  
  
Myungsoo shook his head at the two’s antics. He leaned against the doorway, watching his hyungs move around the living room.   
  
“I’ll be on the roof,” he said, pushing himself away from the doorframe and walking back out to the staircase, not bothering to see if anyone had heard him.  
  
Sungjong, who had been lazing on the couch waiting for his turn in the bathroom (which, as the maknae, he knew would be last), frowned as he watched Myungsoo disappear.  
  
It was strange, but he always found himself worrying for his hyung. He knew the other members all had a fatherly worry for him, but he held the same concern for his hyungs. They had all bonded over the past few months since before they debuted, and he knew that most likely they would spend the next several years together, meaning their relationship was bound to get closer. Despite knowing each other now for only months, already they treated each other like brothers.  
  
Sungjong worried at times if what he felt for Myungsoo was the same as what he felt for his other bandmates though, whether it was the same brotherly affection. When he was with Woohyun or Sunggyu or Seungyeol practicing his vocals, he didn’t blush constantly. When he was with Dongwoo or Howon rehearsing their routines, he wasn’t rambling on like an idiot. Not like when he was with Myungsoo at least. Around him, he found himself feeling like an innocent 5 year old flustered being around their idol. It was at once disconcerting and confusing for the young maknae.  
  
Seeing Myungsoo becoming broody again, he didn’t think twice about standing and making his way out of the apartment following Myungsoo’s steps up the staircase.  
  
When he found himself standing on the roof, he stopped and stood for a moment. Myungsoo was standing at the edge of the roof, hands resting folded on the railing as he stared out aimlessly at the city. The moonlight coupled with the bustle of the city’s lights offered Sungjong an image of an ethereal Myungsoo. This was what people hinted at when they spoke of the older boy’s beauty.  _This_ , Myungsoo bathed in virgin moonlight and gazing openly at the world with nothing but unguarded curiosity, was why he was the face of the group.  
  
Sungjong felt his heartbeat quicken as he stepped closer to his hyung, taking care to walk quietly so as not to disturb the older boy. He stopped beside Myungsoo, leaning his own hands on the railing. The other boy made no move to acknowledge his presence, not even looking at him.  
  
Finally, after several minutes of silence, Myungsoo spoke, “You should be getting ready for bed.” His voice held an odd quality to it that Sungjong didn’t know what to call. Discomfort? Worry? Concern perhaps? He shook his head, clearing his thoughts.  
  
“I wanted to see if you were okay,” he said, his voice carrying over the sudden rush of wind that ruffled his hair. It caused a chill to run down his spine; his clothes were still a bit wet from all the sweating he’d down from practice and he regretted not changing his clothes at least before coming up to the roof.  
  
“I’m fine,” Myungsoo said, his voice flat. “Just needed some time to think.”  
  
Sungjong was so confusing, Myungsoo thought. It made sense that he would show concern for him, yes, but hadn’t he been with Sunggyu this whole time? He’d been sure Sungjong had been too busy with Sunggyu to notice his absence.  
  
It still hurt a bit to think of Sungjong spending his time with Sunggyu, and he hated himself for feeling that way. How was it possible that he was  _that_  selfish, wanting Sungjong’s attention on him and only him? He closed his eyes, imagining for a second that when he opened them all these troubling feelings would disappear. When he did open them though, he wasn’t surprised to realize he was just as conflicted as before.  
  
What was it about Sungjong that made him feel this way, made his heart hurt like this? Him, who was stoic and calm and collected, who was the voice of reason when his hyungs panicked, who was neat and practiced to a fault—how could one feminine boy pull him apart like this? He was a mess, and the past few weeks, past few _months_  being so close to such an innocent and endearing person like Sungjong had wreaked havoc on Myungsoo’s tightly held control.  
  
“Hyung?”  
  
Myungsoo was startled from his thoughts by the sound of Sungjong’s soft voice. He turned to face him, surprised to see a pained look on the boy’s face.  
  
“Did I—did I do something wrong? Did I offend you or something?” Sungjong’s question was like a slap to the face. What was the young boy talking about?  
  
His face must have held his disbelief because Sungjong went on, “It’s just that…you never talk to me or hang out with me anymore. Are you mad at me?”  
  
Sungjong was worried he’d done something careless to hurt his hyung. Perhaps that was the reason he had been avoided by the older boy for the past few weeks.  
  
“I’m not mad at you,” Myungsoo whispered, unsure whether he would even be heard. “I didn’t realize that I’d…you know, made you feel that way,” he added somewhat awkwardly. He was shocked that he’d apparently made Sungjong feel so unwanted; he had no idea that it had been  _him_  who’d been distancing from the other, always thinking it was the other way around.  
  
He knew he wasn’t being fair to Sungjong. Even now, with Sungjong’s broken hearted look on his face, as though Myungsoo had gone and drowned his puppies, he was still hiding himself away.  
  
Taking a chance and only slightly worried how his honesty would be received, Myungsoo finally said, “I’ve just been a little confused lately.”  
  
“Why?” Sungjong asked, curiosity piqued.  
  
Myungsoo looked away, not able to meet Sungjong’s eyes as he revealed, “You make it very difficult…to be around. Sometimes I don’t really know how to be myself.” He looked back at Sungjong, seeing his puzzled face.  
  
“I do?”  
  
Myungsoo sighed. “Yeah. You make this,” he pointed to his heart, feeling slightly ridiculous at what he was about to say, “really crazy—really confused.”  
  
He watched in surprise as Sungjong’s face suddenly transformed into a soft smile, a stark contrast to the look of pure worry and concern it had held only moments before.  
  
They had already been standing close, but Sungjong somehow stepped even closer, until he was only a breath away. The tips of their shoes were pressed together, as were their knees. Sungjong’s face was down, hair falling softly over his face. Though it was dark, Myungsoo had a feeling the younger was blushing. It lightened his heart to know he still had that effect on Sungjong.  
  
Sungjong raised his head finally, gazing adoringly at Myungsoo. He raised his hand to between their chests, pressing his warm hand atop Myungsoo’s chest, right above his heart.  
  
“I—” he broke off, flustered for a moment at the intense look Myungsoo was giving him. “I can fix that,” he whispered.  
  
He quickly averted his eyes, feeling embarrassed at how intimate he had become with his hyung. As he was looking down, he failed to see the smile that bloomed across Myungsoo’s face.  
  
Myungsoo, unable to stop himself and not really wanting to, took a hold of Sungjong’s chin and tilted his head up to face him again. His smile was smaller, though no less stunning. Sungjong’s heart raced as he realized Myungsoo’s face was looming closer, finally stopping when he was only inches from Sungjong’s own.  
  
“Let’s fix it together,” Myungsoo whispered, his warm breath caressing Sungjong’s lips. Before Sungjong could reply, Myungsoo closed the distance between their lips, pressing his mouth against the younger boy’s.  
  
It was too soft, too sweet, and, for Sungjong, too short. The kiss they shared was feather light. Sungjong’s lips softened beneath Myungsoo’s, inviting the older boy to press a little harder. His hand moved up from beneath to Sungjong’s chin to cradle his cheek, stroking his thumb tenderly across his cheekbone. Neither knew when it happened, but sometime during the kiss Sungjong’s other hand had traveled up to between their chests, joining his other hand to fist the flimsy material of Myungsoo’s shirt. He unconsciously rubbed the muscled chest beneath his hands, causing Myungsoo to release a sudden groan.   
  
He pulled away, startling Sungjong. Sungjong’s eyes held more worry. “Did I do something wrong?” he asked. It was his first kiss, and he had a feeling he had royally screwed it up.  
  
Myungsoo reached his other hand up, framing Sungjong’s face as he bent forward and rested his forehead on the smaller boy’s. They both had their eyes closed, inhaling each other’s scent and breathing the same breath as they held each other beneath the starlit night sky.  
  
“No,” Myungsoo answered. “You were perfect.”


End file.
